


Make Me Feel All Right

by ziskandra



Series: Secondary Codex: A Mass Effect Fic Collection [3]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:40:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziskandra/pseuds/ziskandra
Summary: As though he’d read her mind, or at least her very expressive face, Liam adds, “I kept my helmet on. Got to protect the money-maker.”Sara rolls her eyes. “I knew you were moonlighting as a model, Kosta! It all makes sense now.”Collection of Rydam ficlets written for tumblr prompts.Contents: a tiny dose of sad Liam, and a giant helping of fluff.





	1. Loneliness

While he’s spent a lot of time in space, Liam Kosta is not a spacer by any definition of the word. Yeah, he’d spent most of his holidays on the Citadel with mum or dad or both, depending on who was working where at the time, but the sprawling wards of the hub of the Milky Way did not compare to spending most of his days on a spaceship.  
  
And not just any spaceship, but a _scouting_ vessel.  The Tempest might be an engineering delight but it’s hard to overlook how small the ship is sometimes, especially when Liam’s close to crawling out of his own skin with restlessness.  
  
He’d known that settling an entirely new galaxy would take time, even in the best of circumstances. And hell, he’d known things could (would) go wrong.

Still, knowing was different to _feeling_  and that made all the difference.   
  
It’s hard to remember why he came here when he’s sticking his foot into his mouth all the time, trying to span bridges but falling flat on his arse instead. It’s hard to remember why he came when the same old shit keeps on happening, marring his hopes for a better galaxy, a better future, a better _home_.  
  
But it’s hardest when he remembers his parents and all that he’s left behind. It’s not that he regrets his decisions. He doesn’t. But he misses them all the same, an ache that burns and tears at his lungs when he allows himself to cry just before he goes to sleep.  
  
The Tempest is smallest when he’s surrounded by people but nonetheless inexplicably lonely.    
  
 _Everything will be okay._ He reminds himself of that on the daily. But sometimes, he wishes that there was somebody else that would tell him, too.  Or, at the very least, allow him to believe it. 

*

The thing is, the Pathfinder  _listens_. Eyes tracking along his face, as though he’s got something important to say. They sit together on his couch, side-by-side, and the walls of the storage room stop closing in on him, stop threatening to crush and bury his heart.  
  
The Tempest is still small, but he finds that he doesn’t mind it quite so much.  
  
Enjoys the implications, in fact.


	2. Sickness

“It’s only a little sniffle,” Sara said, wiping angrily at her dripping nose. Despite her protestations, the pile of tissues by the side of her bed only grew larger, having already spilled over the edge of the bin she’d moved there.   
  
Liam kicked some of the errant tissues aside as he moved to sit next to her. Sara felt the mattress shift underneath his weight. “From what I hear, you’re lucky to have escaped the medbay.” 

Sara huffed, the effect altogether ruined when she immediately turned aside to sneeze. “I told Lexi that I didn’t need to be doted over,” she grumbled, arching an eyebrow at Liam. “Don’t tell me she sent you to check up on me.” 

Holding up his hands in resignation, Liam bit back a chuckle. “Not on official orders, no. Can’t I just be worried about you?”   
  
“I’m congested,” she said, “not dying.”   
  
Liam’s eyes clouded over at the words, and Sara winced. Maybe, _probably_ , should have chosen them better. Their infiltration of the Archon’s ship hadn’t been too long ago. An apology was at the tip of her tongue when Liam’s gaze softened, and he instead reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.   
  
“Not this time,” he said quietly, statement punctuated with a light squeeze.   
  
“Right,” Sara said, before sneezing once more. She should have known that Liam wouldn’t make a big deal about it. Not here. Not like this. She tried her best to keep the atmosphere light-hearted. “If it’s the common cold that gets me for good, I’m going to be severely disappointed.”   
  
Maybe joking about her own eventual death wasn’t everyone’s definition of light-hearted, but Sara was trying her best, god damn it.   
  
And Liam laughed, which is what mattered. “So, it is a cold, then. Because I ran into Suvi earlier, and all she could talk about was how amazing it was.” He tilted his head, giving Sara a look-over. “You know, whole new galaxy, same old illnesses. Is it the same virus, or an analogous one with the same symptoms? Aaaaand that was about as much as I understood.”   
  
Sara smirked. “I got the same talk,” she told him in between sneezes. “Probably understood a bit more than you did, though.”   
  
“Just rub it in, why don’t you.” There was no trace of offence in Liam’s words. “Hey, did you know that Jaal still doesn’t know what a sneeze is? I wonder if the angara get colds.”   
  
 “Considering how they are about sickness,” Sara answered drily, “we might never know.”  
  
Liam chortled easily. “You know, I think Jaal and I are at that point where I could ask him about it without it being all weird. Well, _too_ weird. He leaned down to kick off his boots. Sara frowned.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“What does it look like?” Liam said, as he pulled down the covers on what he had come to think of ‘his’ side of the bed. “I’m getting in. That is– unless you need anything? Food? Water?”   
  
Sara shook her head slowly. “I ate a bit earlier, but it wasn’t really agreeing with me. Even more so than the rest of the time.” Liam started making himself comfortable underneath the blanket, and Sara eyed him doubtfully. “Aren’t you going to get sick?”   
  
“Well, I figure we don’t _really_  know what you have. So, this is research, right?” At Sara’s roll of the eyes, he added, “And even if I do…” He shrugged. “Worth it.”   
  
“All right,” Sara conceded, wriggling over to make space for him, “but if it turns out I am contagious, I don’t want to hear you blaming me. Got it?”   
  
“Never dream of it,” Liam assured her, all earnestness, but part of her couldn’t help but think that Liam would be a complete pain in the ass when he was ill. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his chest. “Let me know if you get too warm. I know you were running a fever earlier.”  
  
Sara sighed. “Is everyone talking about me behind my back?” Another sneeze. “On second thought, don’t answer that.” She reached around Liam for the box of tissues; anticipating her struggle, he picked them up and settled them next to her pillow. “My hero,” she said, beaming as she picked up several fresh sheets in her hands. “This is nice.”   
  
“Sure you don’t need anything?” Liam asked once more, just to be sure.   
  
Sara sniffled before attempting to blow her nose again. “Nope. Just you.”


	3. Weirdness

Sara makes a beeline for the shower when they return to the Tempest. There is dried blood smeared across her face, mud and dirt caked into her hair. “Someone’s in a rush,” Liam chuckles over her shoulder, as though he wasn’t following her _anyway_.  How the hell had he managed to stay so pristine, anyway? He was always right up in the thick of things, right beside her.   
  
As though he’d read her mind, or at least her very expressive face, he adds, “I kept my helmet on. Got to protect the money-maker.”   
  
She rolls her eyes. “I _knew_ you were moonlighting as a model, Kosta! It all makes sense now.”  
  
“Hey,” he says, raising his hands defensively, “you guys aren’t paying me enough.”  
  
“We’re getting paid?” she asks, half-exasperated, half-amused.   
  
“Exactly,” Liam laughs.    
  
Sara runs a hand through her hair. Two twigs come tumbling out. “I feel so gross right now. Might have to take a leaf out of your book for next time.”   
  
Liam looks down at the fallen detritus, glances back up at her. Oh no. “Yeah, then you’ll have enough for a whole tree.”  
  
She groans, shoving at his shoulder lightly with one hand, towards the bathroom. “I hate you,” she says, but the words are entirely without malice. Liam is undeterred, reaches for her filth-flecked face with one hand, cupping her cheek in his fingers.  
  
“And I love you.” Their eyes meet. His face breaks into a wide, dazzling smile. She needs to stop looking at his lips. She’s covered in blood and mud and muck. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
  
She still doesn’t know how to accept compliments, much to her dismay, no matter how fond Liam is of giving them. She ducks her head, hopes that she’s not blushing. Knows that she _is._ “You’re weird,” she tells him.  
  
“Yeah,” he agrees, rubbing at a fleck of dirt at the corner of her mouth with his thumb before dropping his hand entirely. Thank God he’d refrained from kissing her, even though she knew he’d wanted to. “But you like it.”  
  
To that, she has no argument. 


	4. Silliness

“It’ll be good for morale,” Liam insisted as Sara stared at him skeptically, perched in position at the edge of their bed.

She decided to humour him anyway. “How so?”

Liam shrugged, absently tossing a pair of balled-up socks into the air before catching them again. Repeating the motion as he spoke, he answered, “Make people see you as more than just the Pathfinder.”

Sara squirmed as she often did when Liam referred to her title in their own private quarters. He noticed her reaction, brow creasing in concern as he left the doorway to sit beside Sara on the bed. He nudged her gently with his shoulder. “See you the way I see you,” he added quietly, reaching for her face with his fingers, tucking errant strands of hair behind her ear.

She couldn’t help but smirk at those words. “Like what, a massive dork?”

“Yeah,” Liam agreed with a breathy laugh, face settling into a grin. “Now you’ve got it.” His thumb ran across her cheek, before coming to rest against her lips. She pressed a kiss against his fingertips, smile widening as she met his gaze and held it.

More and more, she found herself living for moments like this.

Finally dropping his hand from her face, Liam passed the socks to Sara. “I believe these are yours,” he said, gently pressing them towards her. They tickled her skin. She didn’t mind it. “And the floors are waxed and ready to go, Pathfinder.”

It was funny how the title didn’t bother her as much as it had only minutes earlier. Perhaps both _Sara Ryder_ and _the Pathfinder_ could co-exist simultaneously. She squeezed the ball of socks in one hand, and reached for Liam’s with the other. “Then what are we waiting for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hit me up (with some prompts or just in general) on tumblr @ commspecialist!


End file.
